new
Hi, I am new and I come bringing fic. I want to contribute! :)
Title: Without the Captain
Summery: Aubrey/Maturin (nonslash) One is wounded, but who is it? Guess they both are.
Disclaimer: They are not mine, they will never be. Patrick O'Brian's only.
Rating: G (read it anyway)
Enjoy and please let me know about any problems...
Without the Captain
By: Megan Baker
“Mr. Pullings!” Came Stephen’s voice from below.
“Yes sir.” Was the reply as the man came tearing down the stairs. The noise was just dying down. Both ships having taken damage and a storm approaching. The opposition had fled at the signs of the storm and left the Surprise to its wrath.
“What is to be done when the Captain is…indisposed?” The Doctor asked, anxious.
“It’s been taken care of sir.” Pullings answered and flew back up the stairs.
Stephen turned around and sighed audibly. He looked over at Jack, silent and unconscious, lying frighteningly still before him. The only thing to do was wait; the other wounded being few and already mended properly.
“Will he wake up soon doctor?” Asked one of the ship’s boys who had helped bring their Captain below. Stephen turned and removed his glasses, looking at the youngster.
“He will, he will.” He answered softly and then reminded the boy of his duties on deck and preparation for the storm. When finally alone he was glad for it. The lightness of the day was fading as the stormy clouds gathered above. The flicker of one candle began to illuminate the cabin further as the light receded. There were feet trampling and voices calling, the sound of ropes dragging the deck and the beginnings of the rain. Stephen took another rag to his friend’s brow and waited.
Stephen had always felt rather helpless on the stormy days. Feeling as if he should be doing something besides nursing his books and prodding carefully at his specimens, mindful of the swells. This time however there was no book or beetle that he wished to study. He was anxious about the crew and their ability to handle the whether without their leader. They were all quite capable he kept reminding himself. His thoughts were interrupted though by Killick, who entered quietly and spoke abruptly above the noise of the sea. “There any mendin’ need done for the Captain?” He asked. Stephen, not fazed by the surprise of Killick, handed over Jack’s coat and shirt. “You can have a look, but nothing pierced him. Only a rather hard knock on the head, I’m afraid.” He finished and went back to waiting. The steward muttered under his breath before turning to leave.
“Oh, I daresay, Killick, don’t fool around with your needles in this squall.” Stephen called after him. “Leave it till it calms!” He finished, hearing more muttered replies.
After half an hour the storm out side disappeared, at least to Stephen, as he focused entirely on reading about the unconscious state in one of his books. The anxious doctor had finally given in and retrieved a book he thought might help. But before he could read anything of use a noise came from Jack. He listened and didn’t realize that Jack was either awake or knowledgeable of his presence until: “We should not have engaged.” Jack groaned. Stephen smiled and crouched down to speak to him. “There, you are right.” Stephen started. “But you’ll be happy to know, none of your crew was more badly wounded than yourself this time.” He answered, throwing a blanket over Jack.
“That’s encouraging. But what of our opposition?” Jack asked concerned. “She’s gone, the storm frightened us both. It was useless to continue. You must have fallen before all of that.” Stephen said, still looking concerned. “Fallen?” Jack asked.
“Yes, fallen. Two midshipmen and one of the youngsters brought you down here, said you we’re giving orders in the gunroom, fell and hit one of the guns during an explosion.” He answered, still pulling at Jack’s eyelids and checking his pulse. “That’s awfully trivial.” The captain said, straining to sit up. Stephen fussed and pressed him back down. “Oh no, no, no. You’re not moving until I examine your head thoroughly.”
“My head?” Jack asked surprised. “My arm is what’s aching.” He said trying to move it.
Stephen’s brow furrowed. “Your arm?” He asked, befuzzled. He thought for a moment. Yes, he had thoroughly checked Jack from head to toe while he was unconscious. He reached out to feel Jack’s upper arm and as he did so he recognized again his inability to feel very well with his healing hands. There was no blood so any wound there would be internal. He gasped at the realization. “Oh, my dear, forgive me but I still am having difficulty feeling anything beneath the skin, there must be a fracture.” A moment of silence passed. “Jack, could you…just…run your finger along the part of your arm that is in pain and tell me where you feel any inconsistency in the flat surface.” Stephen asked of him. Jack’s concerned eyes then turned to his arm where he took his left hand and drew his finger along it. He stopped where he felt a rise in the bone and Stephen directed him to hold it there and retrieved a bandage.
“Oh I’ll not forgive my self. It should have been bound directly, hours have passed and…” Stephen stopped rambling when Jack placed his hand on Stephen’s busy ones.
“It’s no matter of life or death, joy, let it pass. I’m sure in time you’ll be feeling more fractures than your want.” Stephen tied the bandage and sighed. “Yes but there is so much I’ve not been able to do well for so long.” He then began to poke and prod at his friend’s wounded head. “My poor old ‘cello. It will be a miracle if I ever play with you again.” He said passively, telling Jack he really didn’t believe that but was weighing it as a possibility.
“Oh, soul, never say that.” Jack said, a hint a smile. “Your music is a part of you, it will return in time.” Stephen sighed and nodded in uneasy agreement. He still could not find any trace of a wound, until: “HA! There it is. Oh, I certainly can feel that.” He laughed, feeling the massive lump on the right of Jack’s skull. “And I’m sure you’ll be feeling it, for a while, as well.”
It was at that moment that both of them heard a loud thump above and scorning voices calling after the clumsy fool who had most certainly fallen, from what they could only guess. “Probably Kelynach, off the yardarm again.” Jack grumbled. “What is going on up there?” He asked more himself than Stephen. But Stephen answered him. “Their trying to whether this storm without their Captain, sir.” He said coyly.
“The storm!” Jack gasped and tried again to get up, Stephen would have none of it.
“Joy, you’re going to have to be still.” He said sternly. “They have taken very good care of your ship. It has sufficiently calmed I think, I haven’t felt a swell in a while. I’ll accompany you up on deck when I’ve put something on your head.” He got up and moved to find what he needed in his chest. “Stephen, if you’re going to shave my head again, I must protest.” Jack grumbled.
“Oh, no my dear, I won’t have to take such a drastic action as that! Although you might find it rather uncomfortable having rubbed this all in your hair, it’s rather vile smelling.”
Jack succumbed to the treatment and frowned as Stephen applied it. When he had finished he snickered. Jack glared. “What may I ask do you find so humorous about this situation?” Jack asked, truly puzzled. “Just something I remember from the Sophie. Don’t dwell on it.” But he kept on laughing. “Goldilocks.” He snickered and that was the end of all reservations, Stephen burst into laughter.
“Oh it’s not at all that funny.” Came Killick’s voice suddenly, grumbling as he returned the Captain’s clothes. Jack jumped in fright, only fueling his friend’s laughter.
“Come, come dear, I’ll help you up on deck.” Stephen said, taking Jack’s arm after he had dressed. Killick disappeared, muttering something about dinner.
The Captain slipped two times as he ascended the stairs to see what damage the crew had managed without him, Stephen continually fussing over his head along the way.
When they arrived on deck Jack was somewhat surprised to see little damage.
“Well,” He started, privately to Stephen. “She looks rather well, after all that storm and roughness.” Stephen only smiled and called for Bonden, letting Jack survey the ship.
“Yes Doctor?” The Captain’s coxswain, said running up immediately.
“Ignore the Captain’s protests please and watch him closely, I’m still not sure about his head.” The Doctor said. “You have done such a brilliant job looking after me, I assume you will do even better for your Captain.” He finished and turned quickly away. “I’m going at once for a rest, I was up all night tending to you my dear.” He said, passing Jack.
“Stephen...Doctor.” Jack called once more appropriately, diverting his attention from the deck. “I am truly thankful… truly.” Stephen merely waved his hand. “Just look out for yourself, I might see you after supper…for a bit of music.”
The End